The Drums of my Voodoo Child
by TexasAlex123
Summary: Shortly after the downfall of Prime Minister Harold Saxon, the northern town of Little Hamley awake to an abandoned baby on their church doorstep. Quickly adopted by a loving family and named Hazel, all seems well until girls from the village start to go missing, and the local madwoman complains of hearing the ever-constant sound of drums.


The village of Little Hamley awoke one morning, engulfed in gossip as a baby had been left on the doorstep of the local church. Father Thomas had discovered her by nearly tripping over the basket she had been placed in, prompting the rather irate infant to keep the village awake for the rest of the night with her furious wails.

Almost immediately, the people of Little Hamley, who last saw action in WW2 when the men formed their own ramshackle Home Guard, began to wonder who on earth the baby's mother was. The most recent woman to have given birth was Marsha Crawling, but her baby was nearly a year old. Suspicion then fell on the teenage girls of the town, especially those who wore their skirts above their knees. However, their petite figures showed no signs of recent pregnancy, and the town once again had no answers.

A social worker from London was called in to investigate the incident and too was dumbfounded. As Father Thomas had so aptly put it 'it was like she fell out of the sky.' After much media attention was drawn to the case, in order to try and persuade the mother to reclaim her child, it was declared a lost cause, and the mystery of the identity of the child's parents was relegated to town folklore.

Another thing that the townsfolk and social worker found difficult to understand, was not only why someone would leave their child in such an insignificant place, but why would they leave their child at all. The baby, (who was established to be a healthy girl by the town doctor) had not arrived with much, only a basket, a blanket and a letter, but the blanket was soft and silken, a tasteful shade of pink, and the letter was written on thick expensive paper. There was only one line written on it though, there were marks on the paper where the pen had pressed so hard it had almost torn through the page.

_**Name her Elizabeth.**_

There was much debate in Little Hamley as to who the baby should go to. Once people laid eyes on her pretty brown eyes, and thatch of blonde hair, there were many claimants. The Dawsons wanted to add her to their brood of four, more free help for their farm. The Smiths wanted her to balance out their family of six boys and no daughters. But finally, it was decided that the Hardys, who lived in the charming stone farmhouse, should be given her.

Mr Jeff and Mrs Rebecca Hardy were overjoyed when the baby was carefully placed in their arms. They were childhood sweethearts, who had been married for over a decade and had no children much to their bitter disappointment. Therefore it was only fair that such kind hearted people should be given something they had so longed for, a child.

After the papers were signed and they drove the baby home in their battered truck, Rebecca turned to her husband and said, "I feel terrible for saying this, but I don't like the name Elizabeth for her."

Jeff turned to look at their sleeping daughter in the back seat and agreed. "It seems so long and clunky for a baby. How about we keep it as a middle name and call her something else."

They spent the rest of the drive home debating baby names, Sarah, Mary, Laura, Rose were all listed as possibilities, but only when they pulled into the driveway of their home, did they discover their favourite.

Nearly a century ago, a Hardy ancestor planted several hazel trees around the family farmhouse, in order to appease his wife after he slept with the midwife. It didn't work, but the hazel trees have remained there ever since, envied by the townsfolk of Little Hamley for their beauty and the delicious hazelnuts they produced.

"How about Hazel?" Jeff said, "She's part of the family now; let's give her a family name."

"I love it," Rebecca said, "Hazel Elizabeth Hardy, welcome to your new home."

The new parents soon settled into their roles as parents, feeling joy they had not felt since their wedding day.

On the other side of the village, Ms Henderson watched them fervently as Hazel slowly grew up. She had seen who had left the baby on the doorstep of the church, a woman in a dark cloak with blood-red nails. The village had dismissed her, her supposed mental illness meant that she was pushed aside and ignored, left to wallow in her tiny cottage on the outskirts.

No-one asked her about her strange visions of blood and fire, of an orange sky with twin suns and silver leaves. Or a gleaming city enclosed in glass. No-one asked her about the many monsters that forcibly entered her dreams, they came in shapes and sizes, from metal men to lizards that walked and spoke.

And certainly no-one ever asked why when she saw Hazel Hardy, did she hear the unearthly, echoing sound of drums.


End file.
